


Homeward Bound

by AuditoryCheesecake



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adoribull - Freeform, Kid Fic, M/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 20:29:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5640919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuditoryCheesecake/pseuds/AuditoryCheesecake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian's never going back to Tevinter. Everything that matters now is in the South.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homeward Bound

Dorian settled back in his seat with a sigh, watching the other passengers file through the plane. It wouldn’t be long now. He’d fulfilled all his duties, stood at his mother’s side, shaken the hands of important people, delivered a few proper and not at all heartfelt words. He’d remained stoic and solemn through the ceremony, thanked the right people for coming to the wake, and assured his mother that he didn’t want the house in Qarinus, she could do with it as she liked. 

He didn’t know why the only flight from Qarinus to Ferelden always left at four in the morning, but he’d traveled the route enough times now to be bored with it. He just wanted to be home.

The other groggy travelers settled into place, and the plane took off with a roar of engines. Dorian watched as the ground fell away below him, the massive, imposing buildings shrinking in moments to toy-sized, to ant-sized, finally disappearing from view as the plane reached the thick layer of clouds. The early-morning darkness deepened, then vanished altogether as the plane rose above the cloud bank and the open sky stretched around and above. Above the clouds, the horizon was a dramatic array of color, from dark blue at the height of Dorian’s vision all through the spectrum to a soft pink at the bottom of the sky.

The plane tilted south, and Dorian could see where the sun was just about to rise. Tevinter was invisible below the clouds. He was never going back.

The first bright edges of the sun were deep orange-gold, and Dorian watched as it rose in increments, as the tops of the clouds shifted from deep gray to gold-pink, taking a few pictures with his phone. In the distance, the tops of the Hundred Pillars were visible, reaching like fingers above the clouds and gilded by the sunlight. 

The sun rose fully, flooding the cabin with light in a matter of moments, the shift from dawn to daylight over in the blink of an eye. His last night in the Imperium ended as the shift of planets and stars carried on, perfectly routine.

Dorian spent a good portion of the flight befriending the tiny elven girl in the seat in front of him. She was nervous at first, peeking between the seat backs to stare at him, but he won her over by sharing his tiny bag of pretzels. Her delighted smile made his heart ache and he wished the flight would go faster so that he could be _home._

The clouds cleared by late morning as their route swung out over the sea. They crossed into Ferelden, and Dorian watched the deep green forests roll by like waves as the plane passed over the mountains. Finally, they began to descend towards Cousland Memorial Airport.

He didn’t push as the plane emptied, he didn’t quite run through the terminal. What difference was a few minutes in the grand scheme of things, anyways? He hurried.

He fidgeted in line for customs, passport out, forms at the ready. He’d been a Fereldan citizen for years now, but somehow or other he always wound up “randomly selected” for something. He only had the one bag with him at least. A four-day trip, and his mother had insisted that she would provide him with an appropriate wardrobe, he hadn’t needed much luggage. 

In fact, most of the space in his bag was taken up by gifts. Coffee for Krem, chocolates for Vivienne, an assortment of street-fair bric a brac for Bull. And, wrapped carefully in a soft scarf, the wooden duck he’d swiped from the attic of his parents house. He hadn’t even realized his mother had kept it, but he’d found it while going dutifully through the dusty boxes so that she would feel better about selling his childhood home. The paint was fading and one of the wheels had wobbled dangerously when he rolled it experimentally across the floor. Maybe Blackwall could fix it up a little.

The woman behind the desk looked back and forth from him to his passport photo a few times, asked him to open his bag so she could inspect the perishables he’d declared, made a few leading but not quite offensive comments, and generally made Dorian want to scream because he was _so close_ , he was almost home.

She finally stamped his passport with a fake-sweet “Welcome to Ferelden, Mister Pavus,” and he was free.

Dorian hurried through the familiar halls, past stores selling “I love Skyhold” mugs and Denerim Mabaris jerseys. Thankfully, he was able to avoid the constant mess of the baggage claim and headed right to the front of the airport, scanning the room for familiar faces.

They were easy to find. Bull stood head and shoulders above the humans and elves around him, and Astaari, perched on his shoulders, saw Dorian at the same time he saw her. He saw her point at him, her little face shining with joy, and he felt the telltale sting of tears in his eyes, his throat pulling tight. He’d missed them more than he could have imagined.

He struggled towards them through the crowd, occasionally using his bag as a very gentle battering ram. Astaari was on the ground by the time he reached them, and Dorian dropped his bag and knelt down to wrap his arms around her. She clung to him wordlessly, and Dorian buried his face in her hair. He never wanted to let go again.

He held her tightly until she leaned back and looked him in the eye with all the seriousness a four-year-old can muster. “Why are you crying, Papa?” She asked him with a worried expression.

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and pulled together a smile for her. “I just missed you, mellis.”

She nodded. “I missed you too, Papa. So did Tama.” 

Dorian clambered to his feet, still holding onto Astaari, and turned to Bull with a watery smile. Bull smiled back, so widely that Dorian was a little worried his face would crack open. He had a bouquet of roses in his hand, and leaned down to kiss Dorian, wrapping his free arm around Dorian’s waist. Dorian didn’t care if people stared at them, he had his daughter in his arms, his husband at his side, all was right in the world.

“Good to be home?” Bull asked quietly while Astaari started filling Dorian in on the recent developments in day-care politics.

Dorian sighed, trying to release all the tension of his week. “Amatus,” he said with tired sincerity, “I am never leaving you again.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Adoribull Secret Santa](http://anadoribullholiday.tumblr.com/) event on tumblr (and specifically for [tedkordisanasshole](http://tedkordisanasshole.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Title totally inspired by the Simon and Garfunkel song of the same name. 
> 
> Word things: Astaari is the Qun word for "sunrise" because I like symbolism, and Dorian calls her "mellis," Tevene for honey.


End file.
